International bathroom day in Berlin was a special occasion where the participants could choose to either sit on the toilet with the lid down or up. Comfort was not a number 1 priority at this event, number 2 was. No, I’m just kidding – number 1 and number 2 were given equal importance. You can look at pictures and read the whole article here.
While the news above is a bit off beat, I have an even better story which you can read in full here: a man stole a toilet in Argentina and then when cops stopped to check with the store he stole it from, he escaped with the police car and the toilet. This is where it turned into a real toilet car chase involving helicopters and the full strength of the Argentine police force. They went all out with their super updated GPS technology and spared no expense to catch this white porcelain criminal. The toilet thief didn’t get away a second time but was hauled off to jail much to the relief of all involved in this scary, life threatening experience.
So, what I understood from this article is that Argentina is such a crime free zone, and thievery is so random, cops are just sitting around waiting for someone to do something so they can let the dogs loose, helicopters, Robocop and SWAT to retrieve whatever it may be, regardless of how foolish they might look for doing so. God forbid someone should ever steal a bathtub or they’ll be forced to call on the British navy stationed in the Falkland Islands to join in the fray and possibly declare a state of siege until the perpetrator is caught and the goods returned. I can see it now, a naval captain with a Tommy Lee Jones complex: “Alright, listen up, people. Our fugitive has been on the run for ninety minutes. Average foot speed carrying a toilet over uneven ground barring injuries is 4 miles-per-hour. That gives us a radius of six miles. What I want from each and every one of you is a hard-target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in that area. Checkpoints go up at fifteen miles. Your fugitive's name is Juan Paco Chihuahua Gúzman Sanches. He is armed with a flush and toilet paper, so all of you be careful out there. Go get him”.
Welcome to Rio, the laziest city in the world! I know you’re probably thinking that your city is lazier. Trust me, I’ve been to your city, and my city beats your city every time.
I have lived in countries where people take off for two hours after lunch to sleep, others where people’s favorite pastime is not moving. I know people whose hobby it is to lay down and sleep wherever they happen to be. But still, nothing compares to how lazy people are here.
I say this because yesterday the whole city flooded and people were making make-shift boats in order to get around. The catch is that the flood didn’t happen because a damn broke, or because of a hurricane, or tsunami, or because there are no drains in the city. It flooded because the drains were stopped up with garbage.
People here are so lazy they not only take 1000 days off a year in holidays and vacation, but they don’t make the slightest effort to throw trash in the trash can. How hard is it to walk over to the fluorescent orange trash can and throw your wrapper or can in? This is the one city where people are so lazy they prefer to wade through garbage filled water when it floods than to keep the streets clean. They prefer to “get creative” and make rafts out of floating garbage, than throw it away in the proper place to begin with. Oh, yeah, we’re really resourceful. We can make anything out of garbage; after all, it’s floating all around us, and often times hitting you in the face.
The other day I was walking through the park and a father was walking with his son and they were drinking a Coke. The father finished his drink and then he threw the can on the floor. Here’s the part that’s really ridiculous, the trash can was 3 ft away, and he did this with his son standing right next to him. Can you believe it? I know I didn’t. I just stood there looking dumb-stuck and then walked over and picked up his can and threw it in the trash right in front of him. You won’t believe what happened next, but I’ll tell you anyway because it’s just that unbelievable, he got mad at me. We had a friendly argument where he threatened to kill me and I told him he represented all the evil in our society and the decline of our species, (not really, but we did exchange stressed although polite words). I did complain that he was teaching his son that even though there’s a trash can nearby, no need to use it, because someone will come by and pick it up eventually.
As it so happens, there’s not always someone to come by and pick it up and that’s when things happen, like yesterday’s flood just to name an example that’s fresh in my mind. The entire city was stopped for hours and all because the people of Rio (bless their hearts) were too damn lazy to pick up a couple of pieces of paper and throw them in the can. It’s a sad, sad day when entire countries in God-forsaken Africa are cleaner and better kept than our beautiful, tropical paradise.
We insist on destroying what’s beautiful (our city, the Amazon, the beaches) and one day, if we’re not careful, floods will be the least of our worries.
We interrupt this program to bring you an important message: we are now calling a relationship between two guys that are really good friends, a “bromance”. Please make sure you make the necessary adjustments in your vocabulary so you can insert that pearl throughout your speech. This makes you more hip, cool, and down with what’s new with the kids right now.
Ways to use this new word are: “Isn’t that bromantic?” and “Look at that bromantic couple”, “Don’t be gay, be bromantic”, “Let's be exclusive".
That’s the basic gist of the message that was passed on to me by the newspaper today. The flood yesterday, some important arrests, indictments, gunfire, corruption and evil went almost completely unnoticed due to the fact that we now have a new colloquial expression to use and it’s so very important that it took up the front page of the magazine that comes with today’s paper (which usually has information on technology, scientific breakthroughs, university test preparation and a basic guide to life), plus 4 pages inside.
I know you’re probably thinking that this is not the most ridiculous bit of non-news to grace the pages of our newspaper, and you would be correct. No, I believe there have been others, in fact, there have probably been so many we could host an award show and give out Waste of Printed Word prizes.
I hope you’ll all take this in the spirit it was meant and stop calling really good, almost married couple-like friends gay. Let’s get with the program, people, and call them “bromantic”. Let us not sin in not being well versed and aware of the hip hop lingo of today’s bubblegum crowd, ok? And don’t be afraid to declare your “bromance” to the world. You may be ridiculed today, tomorrow and quite possibly for years to come, but it’ll be worth it. Globo says it will, and in Globo we trust – right? Have they ever steered us wrong?
It never ceases to amaze me how incompetent people can be, or maybe they’re just lazy, I don’t know. I know what to expect from our public school system, and I know what I can expect from individuals, but I am shocked to find out what our private school curriculum is like. I know it shouldn’t come as a surprise to me, considering my kids have been going to school for a while now and I’m not new to this, but it does. I’ve come to expect something from them that I’m not sure they can deliver. The reason I’ve come to expect something from them is simple, really; it’s because I pay an arm and a leg every month to ensure that they get the best possible education I can afford. It stands to reason that by the standard I’m getting, I apparently can’t afford a decent education for my babies, but that’s where I have to point out that if at the prices I’m paying if I can’t get a good, in fact, very good education for them, then maybe there’s something wrong with the schools and not with me.
I don’t think they’re inferior in everything, however when it comes to reading comprehension and material, I am sadly disappointed. This all came about last week when I had to go running out to buy a book for my son. I had forgotten to buy it a week earlier and had to run around like a she-demon out of hell looking for it. As it turns out, there is no way to walk in and buy the book. No, that would be too easy and the clever teacher, bless her heart, would be way out of line if she chose something that was in print for the kids to read. This was one of those books that had to be ordered in advance and took days to get to you. In the end I found a place that was able to get it to me in 2 days. I went running with my son in tow and guess what the book was about? I bet you’ll never guess – I know I didn’t. The book was about a broom handle. Don’t bother re-reading that last sentence, you understood it correctly – a broom handle. I suspected there might possibly be a broom handle involved in the story because the book was called, “Memórias de um Cabo de Vassoura”. I was not prepared, however, for a detailed, mind-numbingly boring story about – wait for it – a broom handle.
The teachers and educational authorities in this country want you to believe that the book is open to allegorical interpretation, a method in which the literal meaning of the text is superseded by an interpretation in which each element is understood to signify another. That's all good and well if you're interpreting scripture, but we're talking about 7th grade literature and in my opinion, the most asinine writing and subject matter. Wouldn't interpretation of this kind fall under the category of ridiculous? This is reaching, really reaching. Whatever meaning there is in the story, it is quite clear that the children will take it at face value, for which you can hardly blame them, being children and all, and therefore not corrupted by the pathetic attempts of men looking to sound more intelligent than they are and failing miserably. They will understand that the broom handle is indeed a broom handle, and the dirt on the floor is unquestioningly dirt on the floor.
Where are the good books? The well written ones with exciting stories of the days of yore and adventures under the sea? The stories that keep you coming back for more and not running for the door as once again you're forced to read a book that's silly at best and insulting at most as the writer attempts to outdo his competition by making for even more "allegorical interpretation" in order to justify the fact that he is inept and couldn't for the life of him come up with something more interesting than a broom handle. Where are the books like, "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" or "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea"? After looking at the selection available for children in the book store I can only conclude that all the writers were on crack. How else can you justify the flotsam and jetsam written in willy-nilly fashion just floating around for unsuspecting victims to pick up and read?
My question is; if the writer were to objectively look at his work today, clean and sober, would he be proud? Would he know what the hell he was trying to say? I can wholeheartedly say that no, no he would not. Furthermore, would he recommend it as educational reading for his child? I think not. You see, it's one thing to write this drivel and scoop it on to the masses as recreational reading, but it's a whole 'nother kettle of fish to pass it off as mandatory reading for 7th graders.
I'm sick and tired of stupid literature being ladled out to the highly susceptible minds of our young ones under the guise of artsy-fartsy psycho-babble. I for one will be taking it up with my children's school, although I am not deluded enough to believe that something will actually come of it. Never fear, dear readers, for the school's lack of interest in exposing the children to a world of real intelligence and wit will result in many cozy afternoons on the couch with the babies, reading, drinking tea, eating cookies and not interpreting anything at all.
As someone once said:
“It is not enough to simply teach children to read; we have to give them something worth reading. Something that will stretch their imaginations…”
-Katherine Patterson
“The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read.”
-Mark Twain
“Reading gives us some place to go when we have to stay where we are.”
-Mason Cooley
“If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.”
Is it pathetic or super awesome that I sit late at night and watch old black and white movies? Last night I was just saying to myself that TCM (best channel in the world) needed to show a really great movie, and what happens? “The Heiress” comes on with Montgomery Clift and Olivia de Havilland. I wish my name was Olivia de Havilland. It must be my favorite name. The movie is perfect for a cool rainy night with a hot cup of tea and a cookie, so that’s exactly what I did. Montgomery Clift is dreamy (bet you never heard me use that word to describe someone before, but I mean it – I’m not taking it back. In fact, I’ll say it again: dreamy) and also has an amazing name. They’re both very glamorous and very passionate actors. Their performance is one for the books. I think the story is good for conversation afterwards too, which I think is the best kind of movie, don’t you?
It’s the story of a girl who is very young and innocent and crazy naïve. He is a wordly man who returns from Europe and hopes to land himself a pretty little wife with a bit of money so he doesn’t have to earn a living, which he has no idea how to, being a useless gentleman and all. As it turns out he sets his sights on her, she’s cute and clumsy and he finds it endearing. After a short courtship he proposes to her, and of course being the stupid little twit that she is, she wholeheartedly says yes before he consults her father. Her father has other plans for her and they don’t include a gold digger for a husband. The story of course is more complex than that, but I will most certainly not go into detail here since it would take too long. Since most of you won’t go out and get the movie and there’s a good chance it won’t be available in most places, I don’t feel too bad about spoiling the story for you.
In the end she blames her father for things not working out and for her unhappiness (which may or may not be true). Her father disapproves of their marriage and for a number of reasons it doesn’t happen. At one point she asks her father if it would be any worse to live with a man who in part married her for her money and who may or may not have as much affection for her as she has for him, than to live with a father who has little if any affection for her. Is it better for her to live out her days alone embroidering than with someone who could be a companion for her?
The whole situation hardens her and she becomes bitter which in my opinion clouds her judgment and she deals with her ex-fiancé in a way that to me is neither harsh enough, or if you don’t want to be harsh, is not enough to bring about closure. In her shoes, I would’ve married him after my father had passed away (which in the movie he does) and made him live out his days indebted to me because I have all the money. I would also have an agreement drawn up (a pre-nup) beforehand letting him know what I expect from him and he from me. Making him your #$^&* is much sweeter revenge and much better closure than anything else, plus you have the added bonus of having someone with you for your glamorous trips to Europe, or to sit with you by the fire in the evenings. No more embroidery and lonely nights trying to strike up conversations with the servants because you can’t stand the eerie quiet of an empty house.
She doesn’t have me to guide her so she bars the door and leaves him standing there alone banging away calling her name. Whatever. Regardless of a less than stellar ending, I highly recommend the movie and think it makes for a perfect evening either alone or with someone.
Catch you later, my pretties! Have a great weekend!
Bane of my existence Telephones - every last one of them, even if it's not mine
Anticipation Christmas vacation
Random thought I hate the lack of quality service in my country, I don't even have the option of choosing a place for its service, there is no such thing here
Someone once said, “Variety is the spice of life”. To that person I say “hurrah!”, and in keeping with the spirit of this phrase I will endeavor to fill this blog with as much variety as possible from movie reviews, to perfumes, to cooking, to things we do on the weekends or highlights of our week. If there is a story worth telling, a picture worth posting or a sentence worth writing, you will see it here. My life may not be filled with danger and adventure, but by God I can find danger and adventure in the most mundane and tedious activities and I will strive to share them with you all ad nauseum.
So to those of you who find yourselves trapped in the spiraling vortex of nonsense that is this blog I wish you good luck from the bottom of my heart. To those of you who have the willpower to do something more useful with yourselves than read another word of this 6th grade level writing which were it a soup would be cold, were it a steak would be overcooked and were it a book would be empty, I say God’s speed, fare thee well, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
P.S. You know of course that when I say “we” I mean my family and I which includes: Fukui-san (Daniel), I (me), Thing 1 (oldest son, aka: Samurai Jack), Thing 2 (younger son, aka: Miojoboy), Angie and Meury (Mary). There are more members of this family, many, many more members, but since this blog is mainly a way of keeping them posted on the minutia of our lives, it is unnecessary that they be listed in the credits (so to speak).
So, what I understood from this article is that Argentina is such a crime free zone, and thievery is so random, cops are just sitting around waiting for someone to do something so they can let the dogs loose, helicopters, Robocop and SWAT to retrieve whatever it may be, regardless of how foolish they might look for doing so. God forbid someone should ever steal a bathtub or they’ll be forced to call on the British navy stationed in the 
